


Be my Toy

by rivers_bend



Series: Glam Nation [4]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Music RPF, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Glam Rock, M/M, Plot What Plot, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy has a <i>thing</i> about 20th Century Boy, and Adam likes to take advantage of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be my Toy

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know any of the people whose personas are mentioned here, and neither believe nor mean to imply this actually happened.

"I hate you," Tommy says.

"I know." Adam manages to keep the smile off his face, but he's pretty sure it leaks into his voice.

"So much."

"I can see that." This time the corners of Adam's mouth definitely twitch. Tommy's hatred is outlined in sharp relief next to the zipper on his tight stage pants. That always makes Adam smile; he can't help it.

"Thought you were playing off Monte." Tommy is still pouching his lower lip out in an exaggerated sulk like he thinks Adam is going to actually believe Tommy is mad if he complains enough.

"Gotta keep you on your toes, baby."

"My knees, more like," Tommy mutters.

"Not going to complain about that."

"Oh, no. _Your_ turn to finish what you started out there."

Adam doesn't have a problem with that either, actually. Smooth as though he were still on stage, being judged by thousands of eyes, Adam sinks to his knees and reaches for Tommy's fly.

He _was_ a little unfair tonight maybe, wrapping his arms around Tommy from behind just before the guy had to go out on stage, kissing his neck, his back, his shoulders, cupping his dick, rubbing just so, whispering, "All those people out there waiting to see how I'm going to touch you tonight. Wanting to fuck me, thinking about us fucking, wanting you. Wanting to be you. Wanting to be me so they can have you—" Tommy's dick had swelled up so pretty under Adam's palm, and then Adam was gone, off to wait for his own entrance.

He'd teased during Fever, wanting to kiss Tommy so badly that he'd held back, just getting close then touching Tommy's lip with a thumb instead. He'd let Tommy bend him almost double, leaning on his back during Sure Fire Winner, then grabbed Tommy's thigh with his upstage hand, digging right into the hickey there, which made Tommy's knees buckle so he'd almost slid to the floor. But the hair pulling, nipple twisting, heated up-and-down looks—all of which Tommy, if no one else, knew were more foreplay than stage gay—were not what had prompted Tommy's wrath (such as it was), however. Tommy was used to ignoring all that long enough to keep himself under control while they were playing. No, tonight he took exception to Adam's antics during the encore.

When they'd talked about doing Twentieth Century Boy, Tommy had teased that if Adam blew his bass he might not be able to keep from jumping him. But once they started practicing, it turned out not to be a tease.

Adam went down on his knees in front of Tommy, reached for his hip, and Tommy fumbled to a stop on the strings. So they started over, and he did it again. And again. Which was ridiculous. He was a professional. Good at this. But no matter how pissed off he got with himself, as soon as Adam got too close, his fingers went to jelly.

"It's just this fucking song," he finally said. "Listened to it too many times while—" He rubbed his face, looked at his shoes. "It's like Pavlov's dogs or something, only I want to fuck, not eat."

"Well your mouth is definitely watering," Monte said, trying not to laugh too hard. "Adam, get over here. _I'm_ not gonna nut if you pretend to suck my dick."

So they'd done it that way, and it worked just fine.

But tonight Adam felt like mixing it up. Or seeing if Tommy had become immune after a few weeks of playing it on stage. Or, maybe, seeing if he could get Tommy to break completely, go wild for him with everyone watching. Adam's a nice guy, sure, but he's never denied he has a thing for knowing he has power over someone else's libido.

And he hadn't even really given Tommy a chance. Had come up behind him and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back so he was looking up into Adam's face, pulled him around and then sunk to his knees, running a hand down Tommy's chest, skimming around his waist to his ass, squeezing, gazing up into Tommy's face while he licked the mic and opened his throat like he was going to swallow it down.

Tommy lost the plot then, but kept his hands on his bass until Adam lowered the mic and sucked Tommy's fingers into his mouth instead. That's when Tommy's knees gave out and he dropped, bass banging against Adam's thighs, hands clenching in Adam's hair as he kissed him like he was going to die if he didn't, while the crowd screamed like the venue was on fire.

The others—always on top of things, and seriously, how did Adam get so lucky finding them?—improvised until Adam pulled away, stood, and started singing again, leaving Tommy on the floor, trying to find the strings with his fingers.

Now Tommy's doing his best to get back at Adam, nearly pulling his hair out as he fucks Adam's throat, murmuring curses and endearments in random combinations, voice breaking on hoarse cries as he gets closer to coming.

As Adam swallows, he wonders if Tommy even remembers that Adam loves it when he gets like this, so he's only encouraging Adam to try harder next time. Adam hopes not, because half the fun is catching Tommy by surprise.


End file.
